


An Eye for an Eye

by Skilerc_leaf



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, Torture, Vomiting, and rythian too actually, au where zoeya doesn't live and rythian takes his revenge on lalna, blackrock spoilers, everyone's probably seen blackrock already but just in case, lalna is probably really ooc because this is a really old and self-indulgent fic sorry, one-sided rythna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skilerc_leaf/pseuds/Skilerc_leaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Originally posted on my deviantART on 27 May 2014)</p>
<p>After Zoeya's death, Rythian is enraged. But not for long. Vengeance will be his. He intends to make Lalna feel all the pain he inflicted on Zoeya, and more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Eye for an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really old fanfiction that I'm posting on here just to introduce myself to Ao3, really. I've only skimmed this over once, so I apologise in advance if there are any mistakes. This fanfiction is set post-nuke in the Tekkit world (oh gosh that was a long time ago) in an AU where Zoeya doesn't survive the nuke. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Thud.

He had grown to dread, yet crave, the rhythmic, reverberating thuds that signaled his captor's arrival. Every footstep sent a chill rippling down his spine and terror coursing through his veins, and every low chuckle sent a wave of fear crashing over him, swamping him and consuming him until he no longer dared breathe - yet he spent every passing day begging to the empty air for his presence. 

Thud.

"Good morning."

How many mornings had it been, exactly, since he'd been encaged and enclosed in this hellish place like some feral creature? He had forgotten the comforting rays of sunlight, all too accustomed with the faint, dying light of a torch lying somewhere out of sight.

Thud.

"Did you have a good sleep last night?"

Sleep in such an abhorrent place? He could no longer recall the peaceful sensation of drifting into sleep. Those memories were too far back, occurred too long ago, to ever be relived even inside his own head. He only knew that losing consciousness resulted in more painful slashes upon his scarred flesh. He didn't want to have to rip off more of his treasured lab coat for makeshift bandages. 

Yet the man's words, dripping and oozing in sarcasm, warmed his empty, hollow heart, filling him with an unimaginable, odd sense of joy, more than anyone else could. 

"Speak, you mute creature! Speak!" 

"Y-yes, I did," he rasped out, his voice a mere whisper.

His masked tormentor said nothing, simply smirked, his rows of blackened teeth glimmering and glistening in the flickering light of the torch. The prisoner shuddered. Thunder roared and rumbled ominously in the distance, and he retreated to a corner of the cell. 

He knew he was giving his captor a show, a wonderful show of fear and cowardice, and that he meant nothing more to the other than an object of entertainment, and that he was only a plaything to fool about with. He knew that to his tormentor, he was no more than a toy. A mere toy, with no emotions, something kept simply to fulfill his captor's sickening, twisted craving for blood and revenge. Nothing more - not a friend, not an acquaintance, and absolutely nowhere near a lover, no matter how much the scientist yearned it to be.

"Didn't I tell you not to sleep?"

He no longer cried out as the red matter katar slashed across his flesh, as masses of calloused skin dribbled off, as blood pulsated and oozed and spurted and gushed out of ripped muscles. He no longer begged for mercy whenever the heavily armored mage sank his claws into his flesh. He no longer screamed for non-existent help to come as his messy blond hair stained scarlet with his own blood.

The entire cell reeked of the repulsive warm crimson fluid, its sharp, tangy scent filling the air and wreathing around him, trapping him, engulfing him, enveloping him to no end. It tormented him more than the unimaginable, merciless pain that shot through his body and sent it into convulsions and spasms.

"Do you remember why I'm doing this? Do you?" The mage gave him no chance to utter a single word. "It's because you hurt her. Why did you do it? Why? She was innocent! She wanted nothing to do with our war - and you knew that! She was the most innocent, cheerful girl I've met... and I'm sure you knew that as well, having taken her from me once... so is this what you do? Destroy everyone who tries to get close to you?" The katar was dangerously close to his shoulder. 

He could barely speak. His entire body felt numb, with all his senses fading away. Even speaking felt like a chore. 

"Speak to me!" The Endermage roared, his eminence eyes glowing dangerously. The cold metal of the katar pressed against his shoulder, and the mage raked his dagger-like claws across his prisoner's arm. This immediately forced him alert.

"I... I'm sorry..." Those words were choked out. There was so much more he could say - I didn't mean it to happen, I didn't know it would happen, I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just wanted to love you - but he left those words hanging in the air, unspoken, unheard, never to be uttered. Saying any more than those two words of "I'm sorry" was a sin, a taboo, in this place.

"You're sorry?" Livid, his eyes blazing and smoldering with pure, unconcealed fury, the Endermage hollered. "You're sorry? You destroyed her, and all you can say is 'sorry'? How much more pathetic can you get?" He grasped the blonde's bloodstained collar, forcing him to look up at him. "Are you familiar with the phrase, 'an eye for an eye'...?"

The katar pressed down into his shoulder just the slightest.

"Well, you're about to be."

The katar lifted off his shoulder, only to smash down once more. The prisoner let out an unintentional screech as the katar worked its way deeper into the shoulder, and once the mage was satisfied, he pulled out the katar and sank his fingers into the warm flesh, tugging away at the flesh, in an attempt to remove the appendage.

The last thread of flesh broke, snapping, and the arm split off, still spewing blood, tumbling into a corner of the cell with an audible squelch as it bumped against the wall.

He stared at the place where his arm used to be, though not in horror, but in the oddest sense of amusement, as if he'd just seen the most humorous thing. What a sight! His arm - gone! Just like Zoeya's was! What karma! What a beautiful scene, straight out from a macabre movie about the reanimated undead! And the handsome protagonist of the movie had just done this, done such a wondrous thing!

Reality struck him as the mage dealt final hefty blow to his head.

By now his vision was starting to swim, and his headache spiked. The blood loss had gotten to him, and he could no longer feel any heat in his remaining hand. Lurching, he used the remnants of his strength to vomit out blood and the remains of the decayed, rotting flesh of endermen the mage fed him. He staggered before falling limp, the remains of his tense muscles loosening. 

At least his tormentor would be forced to heal him before he could become a fresh canvas for more blood to be spilt on once more. 

That meant he didn't hate him that much to kill him... right? 

And there was still that lonely shred of hope that his feelings would be returned... right?

With those thoughts in mind, he let darkness flood over him, curling its venomous tentacles over his eyes, rendering him sightless. 

_LividCoffee was slain by Rythian_


End file.
